


If You Love Me, Don't Let Go

by Trytoescapeit



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Baby Harry, Baby Louis, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Friends to Enemies, M/M, My First AO3 Post, a lot of fluff, he would've been really cool to write in this story, like they're barely mentioned, niall's not here, sorry so sorry, there's flashbaks of lourry, ziam is so mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:12:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4266234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trytoescapeit/pseuds/Trytoescapeit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're not… you know, temporary.  Just had to have you know that you're not temporary because it's true," Louis says staring up at him. His face was inching closer, a stupid part of him thought he was going to lean up and kiss him but he knew better, or a part of him knew better. Then Louis does actually kiss him, his soft cold lips touch his in the smoothest way, in the prettiest way and just the right way that Harry never wants it to end. But Louis tastes like tangy alcoholic beverages and Harry breaks the kiss in an instant. </p><p>Or<br/>The one where Harry likes Louis but has a funny way of showing it. Louis' kind rude but so is Harry so it's okay. They both grow up together. They find their way together in the end though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Love Me, Don't Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea during Chemistry class when I should have been converting things into moles, long story short, I failed my chemistry regent, better luck next time I guess.  
> This work is fiction 100%. I am not affiliated with 1D in any way yada yada yada. Leave comments, I love those and kudos is alright too. Erm, you can find me on tumblr right here https://www.tumblr.com/search/trytoescapeit (I don't bite). I've been writing this since June 11th and just finished it so go easy on me. The story starts off with a flashback and so it's italicized but it's not all italicized, that'd be annoying. Enjoy and give me feedback!  
> I did an epilogue to fill in the gaps; make sure everything was complete.

 

**If You Love Me, Don’t Let Go**

_This is falling in love in the cruelest way. This is falling for you and you are worlds away.” Come Back… Be Here by Taylor Swift_

* * *

 

_4 years old_

_"Harry Styles," the teacher says scoldingly, "you're getting green paint in your hair! Louis stop distracting him for goodness sake." Harry's impressed she knows his name seeing as this is his second time meeting her. Louis giggles beside him and he laughs manically in response. He takes a chunk of green paint and smears it all over Harry's cheeks. He frowns because the teacher's going to get mad and separate them but then Louis draws a picture in it, dragging his fingers across his cheek and he can't help but giggle._

_"What are you doing?" He could hear the teacher yelling but doesn't pay attention because Louis' smearing blue paint on his own cheeks now. The thick clumps contrasting against his freckled face._

_"Louis Tomlinson, you apologize to Harry right now or I'll tell your mother," she says standing above their table now. Her black shiny heels tapped against the plastic tiles expectantly. Harry didn’t understand why she put them on when she’s already the tallest one in the room._

_"You're going to tell her anyway," Louis says with an attitude, Harry pinches him to apologize for talking to an adult like that but Louis yelps instead and pinches him back, firmer and harder that tears build up on the brim of his eyes. Louis' glaring at him with so much hate that the tears tumble down his cheeks, mixing with the paint in a messy, watery way._

_"That hurt," Harry whines and Louis' stare softens so drastically, like he might also start crying._

_"Oh," he says slowly, "I'm sorry Harry, I didn't mean to make you cry. You pinched me so I had to pinch you back, I didn't mean to make you cry, don't cry," he says ruffling Harry's hair to try to make him crack a smile and he does._

 

* * *

 

_21 years old_

_3 months before_

_Harry_

Louis' drunk, and Harry's pretty sure everyone knows that but there's still this stranger grinding against him and Harry wants to vomit. He's having an internal civil war within himself, whether he should go and save Louis from this situation or ignore it because he knows even conscious Louis would appreciate this good looking guy. He decides to go with the former because Louis _isn't_ conscious therefore can't think clearly; definitely not because of the weight his stomach feels when he looks at them. Louis’ laughing but the guy looks too serious and his hands are gripping Louis lightly around his hips.

 

"Hey Lou, I think someone's keying your car," Harry lies and he cringes at his use of the nickname Lou. They're not close enough for that. It doesn't matter though because Louis' not laughing anymore and he’s pushing the stranger off of him. Harry expects him to sprint to his car but Louis just stares at him, wide eyes observing his every facial feature. His heart’s beating fast now, and he's staring at Louis, forgetting that he's not intoxicated and would have no excuse for staring at him if Louis were to remember tomorrow. Louis nods then and sprints for outside in search of the supposed perpetrator. Smiling a little, Harry and puts his fruit punch to his lips. He could taste the hint of alcohol from where a party goer spiked it but it's the only drink that doesn't have an excessive amount of liquor so he gulps it down. It's cold on his tongue and makes his stomach grumble but it's sweet and sugary. When he removes the drink from his lips, Louis' staring at him, his face unreadable.

 

"I beat the kid up before he can even make a scratch," Louis says proudly and Harry can't stop looking at the sweat that glistens on his forehead, drops of it falling into the dip of his collarbone. His stomach flutters.

 

"Louis, what'd you do?" He asks, his eyes widening because Louis' probably beaten up an innocent kid.

 

"I saved my car from defacement," Louis answered his eyes a foggy blue. He drags his hand across his face to get rid of some sweat which only makes his fingers wet with it. He's not complaining; _definitely_ not looking.

 

"Oh my god, Louis, I lied," Harry admits bewildered, "who did you beat up? Are they okay?"

 

"I don't know," he says honestly and then pushes against Harry harshly with strength Harry didn’t even know he harbored. Louis was short, it was obvious that Harry's taller by at least five inches, but with Louis standing right under him, his head resting against his chest and arms wrapped around his stomach, he's suddenly taken aback by just how short Louis really is. He's also aware that they haven't actually talked for quite some time, not counting the friendly conversations that were exchange between strangers. Harry had decided some years ago that that didn't count.

 

"Um," he says breaking Louis apart from him nicely, "where're your friends?" That was a hard question seeing as all of campus was Louis Tomlinson's friend, he was a friendly guy, he got around. But Louis especially hung out with a certain group consisting of Zayn Malik- a polar opposite of Louis himself, David Cordon- the asshole of all assholes, and Nick Grimshaw-- probably a more annoying version of Louis. Zayn was his favorite of Louis’ friends.

 

"Upstairs, why?" Louis asks, lips curling downwards. It feels like something's about to happen, and Harry really doesn't want to say anything that would shred their relationship more than it already is. He doesn't mean to be rude, it just happens. He pushes Louis a little to the side so he can go around him and leave the house altogether. He'll call Liam later and say he got tired or something.

 

"I’ve gotta run," he says not meeting Louis' eyes. He's intoxicated anyway, what are the odds of him actually remembering this whole conversation? But then Louis appears beside him, linking their arms together.

 

"You do that a lot," Louis says and stops Harry abruptly, "don't be a dick." His voice is harsh, too harsh for being the one to link their arms together. Harry would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying Louis beside him but he had to remind himself that Louis was drunk and people did crazy things when drunk, the cruel reality was that he had become a drunken companion for someone who meant a lot to him in his adolescent years. That was long ago though, he had new friends, Liam and Niall were all he needed.

 

"I'm not being a dick," Harry says levelly trying to keep walking but with Louis' grip being too tight, he gives up.

 

"You _are_ being a dick," Louis said with a scowl, "When I try to approach you, you shrug me off. What'd I do to you Harry? What's you're fucking problem?"

 

"Because you're temporary," Harry whispered and he hadn't meant to say it but he did and Louis' face falls so low because of it.

 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Louis asks jabbing a finger against his chest harshly that Harry thinks it'll leave a bruise for him to admire later. But right now, it's like the bodies have stopped moving, like Harry's whole world has stopped moving because Louis looks so hurt and disgusted, he didn't know that he had such an effect on Louis, ever.

 

"It means," Harry starts with a sigh, "that you're going to leave either way because that's what you do, you leave. You get close to people but you're close to everyone and I know you don't understand the affect you have on people, but you make people think that they're special to you and then you move on because no one's special to you, everyone's disposable to you. Don't get me wrong, it's not a bad thing, it's just how you work and that’s okay," Harry says after taking a hold of Louis' assaulting hand, pressing it to his chest. He's glad Louis' intoxicated because it makes it easier to talk to him.

 

"Don't talk to me like you know me, you haven't known me for years, Harry. You don't fucking know me," Louis bites and it hurts because Harry does know Louis. He sees the way Louis' eyes light up when he's talking to people because he just craves attention, he hears the way Louis talks- with so much pride and allegiance that people just pay attention to him. He's a leader and leaders, unfortunately, are short lived in other peoples' lives. They move on to find better people.

 

"Whatever, Louis," Harry says instead of telling Louis this, he released his hold on Louis' hands, sending them to dangle on his sides. He started to move for the exit, this time actually making it without Louis' interference.

 

Walking down the block of the neighborhood, the shaded areas casted faint shadows of the garbage bags in piles awaiting the garbage trucks, hiding whatever crook that could use it. It was a bad neighborhood, with spliffs littering the floor every now and then, but that made it easier to host college parties. Harry could hear footsteps behind him, picking up momentum as he accelerated him steps. A cold hand grasped him, turning him around and he was ready to fight for his life but then he realized it was Louis.

 

"You're not… you know, temporary. Just had to have you know that you're not temporary because it's true," Louis says staring up at him. His face was inching closer, a stupid part of him thought he was going to lean up and kiss him but he knew better, or a _part_ of him knew better. Then Louis does actually kiss him, his soft cold lips touch his in the smoothest way, in the prettiest way and just the right way that Harry never wants it to end. But Louis tastes like tangy alcoholic beverages and Harry breaks the kiss in an instant.

 

"You're drunk," he says, running his thumb across Louis' lips because he now knows what it feels like to kiss the boy but also knows that he can't just yet. Louis parts his lips anyway, they're still moist from the kiss and Harry really wishes he can just suck the moisture right off of them.

 

"I've only had three," Louis counteracts but he's frowning so he must know Harry's not going to kiss him again tonight.

 

"Three's enough to make you do crazy things," Harry says, still looking at Louis, "go back to Liam's house party, he'll give you a room and make sure no one takes advantage of you." He drops his hands from Louis' face and turns on his heel.

 

"Take me to yours, I don't want to walk back alone, I'll sleep on the couch and everything," Louis insists like he has to ask twice. Harry walks a little slower than Louis because Louis' legs are shorter and he's wobbling like a toddler. He takes a hold of his hand but not looking at Louis because this is strictly not funny business. Their breathing is loud by the time they reach Harry’s flat, the dingy one bedroom apartment with a hole in the kitchen wall covered by a portrait of the famous Dogs Playing Poker. Louis' looking around like he's watching the beginning of the Big Bang right before his eyes.

 

"Do you have a blanket I can use on the couch? The lumpy, uncomfortable looking couch," Louis mocks sadness. Harry walks to his bedroom to grab a blanket, but Louis follows him through and throws himself on his bed.

 

"I'll get the couch then," Harry says ignoring Louis sprawled out on his bed.

 

"We can both take your bed," Louis smiles, his face is so bright, illuminating a bright shine. Harry turns to the exit, ignoring Louis' suggestion. He turns the light off, watching the flicker lose against the darkness.

 

"Goodnight, Louis," he says and he could feel Louis' eyes on him, hear Louis exhale a sigh but he closes the door anyway because Louis' not himself right now, he shouldn't even be there but he is anyway. Louis should be with his friends, they're probably looking for their leader. The truth was, Louis' changed, Harry couldn't see it in the way Louis acted or the way he carries himself, but something was different.

 

The couch was lumpy all night, sinking down under his weight making it harder for him to move throughout the night. When the sun light streamed through the window, filtering through the curtains, Harry took it as permission to finally wake up. Groaning under the light, he walked silently to his room to go check up on Louis who was sure to have been experiencing a hangover right now but his bed was empty, the covers were agglomerate against the wall, the rest of the bed bare. Not even a dent in the bed where he laid was visible, like he'd been a figment of his imagination last night. Only Louis _was_ there, and Harry was sure of it because he hadn't digested not one single alcoholic beverage, not counting the spiked drinks that harbored the faded effects of cheap alcohol. He didn't taste the bitter sweet taste of beer, not even the burning sensation of whiskey that would've left his tongue with the phantom of a faint sting. No, he hadn't touched not one and yet he was still left with a burn in his fingertips and a sweet bitterness he had specifically wanted to avoid.

 

"Louis?" Harry projected his voice. It was quiet though, no sound of Louis at all. He knew he was gone, his place was small, hiding wasn't an option and he couldn't help but feel a certain uncomfortable thought that Louis fled because he felt unwelcome or out of place. He knew that feeling all too well in his lifetime to not want that for anyone. Maybe that's why Harry was lacing his shoes across his feet; the laces burning under his palms where he yanked on them into a bow. And maybe that's why he was closing the door shut behind himself while shrugging his jacket on. The hallway was spotless, not a single footprint left in the places Louis had crossed.

 

Harry made it to Louis' sovereignty within ten minutes with only half an apology made up, he'd have to improvise the rest and hope it sounds as sincere as he feels. What if Louis didn’t remember the night before and left because he felt like it? It doesn't matter now because he was knocking on the door with a rhythm that he probably subconsciously heard in the past. The door opened wildly, Louis standing there with his hands in his hair and eyes closed.

 

"I've got a hangover, do you mind not mimicking Augustana on my door. One knock would have sufficed," Harry dropped his fist to his side; and that _was_ the song, he thought. Augustana Steal Your Heart, and he really should have known that because that song was stuck in his head all of last night. Louis opened his eyes at once.

 

Hallucinations are a thing; they're definitely a thing. People see doctors for those types of things, people feel a sadness because of them. Only Harry was pretty sure that Louis' face, amidst finding Harry standing on the other end, fell down to the supposed hell he read in the bible as a kid. He was pretty sure he saw Louis eyes go defensive like a cornered animal fighting for its life and this not at all what Harry wanted.

 

"What do you want," Louis asked in a harsh tone but kinder then his facade.

 

"Wanted to see if you got here safely," Harry said and really that was all he had practiced.

 

"Goodbye Harry," Louis dismissed and closed the door silently. Harry stared at the wooden door for quite a while wondering what he had done, but to no avail, before turning around and walking around campus aimlessly.

 

The weather was nice against his skin, not too cold our too hot, few leaves flew in his face.

 

"Styles, baby, I knew you'd come to your senses sooner than later," a voice from above called. Harry looked up top find Emily or something off the sorts to be approaching him. Her dark blue sundress flew beautifully in the wind exposing her mid-thigh.

"Emily," he said confidently hoping he got her name right. She frowned though and he smiled even wider. Her face was pale dressed with a light powdered red blush and black hair framing her face. She was pretty, Harry could honestly say.

 

"Emlin, babe. Stop fooling around," Emlin said and Harry wondered who even pretends to forget someone's name as a joke; it didn't seem very funny to him. She was closer to him, her face a few inches from his now.

 

"Go on, now," she whispered, a little too close for comfort.

 

"Go on?"

 

"Confess your love. Tell me that you've tried to resist me for so long but I slip in your dreams so often that you know it's a sign from God telling you I'm the one. Go on." Harry laughed and she rested her forehead against his.

 

"Emily," he said removing his forehead from hers and putting the back of his hand to hers like he'd do to a sick child to check for a fever, "you must know that girls don't tickle my pickle, right? Girls aren't my cup of tea, bros before bros, you know, the whole ordeal?" She pushed his hands off her forehead and resumed their foreheads touching.

 

“I don't know why you take so much joy in saying my name wrong but I'll allow it because you'll just make it up to me when we're eighty two," her eyes were bright so he just laughed in response.

 

“It’s like eight o’clock in the morning, what are you even doing outside?” He asked to change the topic. He started walking again and if Emlin noticed, she didn’t really show it.

 

“I’m meeting up with Shelly,” she says nudging his arm with her elbow, “you can come if you want.”

 

“No thanks,” he declined politely, “I’ve got sleep to catch up to.” It wasn’t a lie necessarily, he really did need to sleep because las night on the couch gave his no justice. He’d just give a few people calls before then.

 

“What are _you_ doing out this early?” He doesn’t know when he stopped waling but he feels it was completely her doings.

 

“Nothing,” he sighed because this morning really was a waste. Filled with empty spaces, angry looks, and door being slammed in his face. _This morning really was a waste._

 

* * *

 

_6 years old_

_Harry's running pretty fast; he can barely see the weeds around him, only blurs of spectrums of different shades of green. But he could hear numbers being yelled out loud. Five-six-seven, it calls and his pace quickens. There's a boulder in the distance and it'd probably protect him from being seen so he huddles behind it gasping for air. He had gotten rid of his asthma two years ago but his lungs still strained for an appropriate amount of oxygen at times. They were burning now and he willed himself not to cough because he could hear Louis._

_Eight-nine-ten, ready or not, here I come!_

_Harry ends up clutching his chest and heaving for a decent breath. The grass beneath his fingertips feels nice, like little soft blades. He had tried to blow a whistle through them but he's beginning to think it's just a myth like Bloody Mary. He could hear Louis’ footsteps getting close but he's got a good hiding spot so he smiles wide._

_"Harry," Louis says and he sounds sad. Harry knows it's a trick, it’s always a trick, so he keeps quiet with a hand over his lips._

_"Harry I hurt my leg," Louis complains and he's so close. Harry really knows it's a joke, it's a way for Louis to win but he peaks his head above the boulder anyway just to make sure Louis' okay. He is. He's looking around a tree. So Harry resumes his position behind the rock._

_"You're just going to watch me die, then?" Even though Harry knows Louis wasn't hurt then doesn't mean he didn't get hurt along the way. He peaks his eyes again and this time Louis' staring right back at him with a wicked smile._

_"I found you," Louis tells him as Harry moves from his spot with a sour face ready to defend himself._

_"No you didn't," he scoffs and Louis rolls his eyes, "you told me you were hurt; you cheated."_

_"Nuh-uh, I was going to look there anyway," Louis says dismissively._

_"No you weren't, you were looking behind that tree," he points to it to provide a stronger argument but Louis just looks at him._

_"You're turn."_

_"I don't wanna play with you anymore," Harry says and he's only half serious. Louis' fun to play with._

_Louis' face falls and he looks hurt._

_"Fine, you won," he says reluctantly and roll of his eyes again. Harry takes it anyway._

_"We both win," he offers and Louis breaks out into a smile and a leap. He sends Harry falling to the floor but his hand is rested in the back of his head saving Harry from a really bad headache later on. Louis tickles him and he does the same. Suddenly his lungs burn for a better reason._

* * *

 

_21 years old_

_3 months before_

_Louis_

“Who was at the door?” Zayn asks when Louis walks into the kitchen with an unsettling face. He shrugs his shoulders. He’s dressed in boxers with stars printed across them. Both their hairs were tousled messily from sleep.

 

“Just Styles,” he tells his friends and steals a piece of bacon from his plate. It was probably the last of his bacon to be fair and Louis’ the one who purchased the food for the house in the first place. Subsequently, it’s Zayn’s turn to go grocery shopping.

 

“Stop eating from my plate and make your own,” Zayn said taking the half eaten bacon and swallowing it before Louis could fight for it, “what’d he want?”

 

“To check if I got here safely like I’m a child,” Louis says and walks to the fridge to gulp the last of the orange juice from the container. Groceries were really getting scarce.

Zayn looked up with wide eyes then and Louis was genuinely confused but then he repeated is words in his head and what they must have implied.

“Nothing happened,” Louis said defensively and harshly. Nothing happened even though he wanted something to all because of Harry. Louis wasn’t mad per se, it was more of embarrassment. Okay… maybe he was mad a little but Harry had called him temporary which means he’s forgettable. If there was on word to describe him, it definitely wouldn’t be temporary.

“Nothing happened but you slept over his house?” Zayn asks perking his eyebrows up. Louis rolls his eyes.

“He slept on the couch. This is all irrelevant, can we go out to eat breakfast?”

“But I’ve got a nice breakfast plate right here” he says lifting the plate as evidence. The plate literally consisted of two strips of bacon, one waffle, and a small drizzle of syrup. Louis gave him a dead panned face.

“Fine, but you’re paying because I only have enough to buy food for this place for a week,” Zayn said dropping the glass plate with a platter. It echoes throughout the house and Louis hopes that no one wakes up. He especially wanted to be gone before the other twelve house mates woke up groggily looking for food. Louis walked away from Zayn to slip his shoes on by the door. The house was a mess, with an eclectic assertions of socks and broken charges. Zayn appears near Louis within minutes and they close the door behind themselves quietly.

“So you were at Harry Styles' place?” Zayn asks and Louis rolls his eyes. Zayn's been Louis' friend since the fourth grade when both boys were called into the principal's office for causing a disturbance although the class was already disturbed. The teacher didn't know how to run a class, maybe because it was her first year teaching but that's beside the point. The principal walked by the classroom like a silent ghost and caught Louis hopping on the desks and that was how he met Zayn's, sitting in the powder pink room with their hands in their laps looking like they couldn't care less. Zayn had been caught making out with a sixth grader, it was very scandalous back then and so Louis befriended him.

Of course being friends with Zayn Malik resulted in a lot of secrets being exchanged like how Zayn had a crush on Liam Payne which is the worst thing he could do seeing as Liam was dating Sophia Smith, the most obnoxious girl Louis' ever talked to. Other secrets consisting of complaints from Louis about Harry Styles, the guy who couldn't take a fucking hint.

 

"I was drunk, Z. I don't even know what I don't know," he lies but no one had to know. He once read that you can convince yourself a false truth. Maybe this is his next experiment.

 

Louis could feel Zayn’s eyes on him searching for something Louis didn’t know nor want to know. Offering a small smile seemed to put his worries at bay because he slings his arms over the shorter boy’s shoulders. The morning air's polite against their faces although Louis could feel debris being winded in his hair. It was probably around 10 am and students were already milling about their day most likely going to their jobs.

Louis, himself, needed to clock into work at 4 and stay until 7 but there was a long time from then. His job, to say the least, was the usual college boring job consisting of waiting tables at the Midnight Moose; smiling at the high class customers not out of the kindness of his heart but because he’d be receiving a pay check three weeks later, thank you very much. To be fair, most of the people who visited the restaurant were rude and undeserving of politeness. There was this one incident where Louis had acted his best, he didn’t even flirt with the table of very attractive males, which he still regrets because there was this really attractive boy with green eyes and a black quiff but he didn’t even get a tip… or a phone number. He wasn’t complaining though, at least he had a job.

They settled for the small burger place a few blocks away that was known for their infamous B- from the Department of Health, no questioned why they didn’t have an A because their fries were deliciously drowned in grease.

Louis pretends not to see Zayn’s imploring eyes and Zayn pretends that Louis isn't giving him his polite awkward smile.

 

* * *

 

_9 years old_

_Louis' staring at Harry but he's not moving, his crowd of friends are cornering him i_ _n. Harry breaks the contact first, turning to Shelly, a girl in his class, he's not sure they're friends, he hopes they are because she's nice and pretty._

_"Harry you're not paying attention to your notes," she says with a voice that's soothing but stern. Her nails are polishes pink, a really lovely color to compliment her complexion and her personality._

_"We've already read this," he complains and she rolls her blue eyes._

_"We can read a story book," she suggests and Harry wish Louis would stop staring at him because he could see Louis from the corner of his eyes and can't help but wonder what he's thinking right now. It’s like his gaze is burning his skin leaving angry marks in its wake._

* * *

 

 

_Harry_

Harry’s stomach is grumbling and flipping uncomfortably, but Liam and Sophia making out right beside him makes him a little more uncomfortable. Don’t get him wrong, he’d be happy for his friend’s happiness if there was, but there’s not. He’d never tell Liam of the drunken slurred words he mumbled last year when he confessed to dating Sophia. It was hard to decipher what words Liam was trying to form with his tongue then, even harder to not breakdown when he’d caught them.

Liam never talked about that chilly night when they had stood outside a liquor store clutching their fake I.D.’s contemplating when and if they should go purchase the depressant. Harry clutched his wrist then, totally missed the way Liam’s pulse jumped, he missed it.

They threw a friendly smile at the store clerk as they made their way to the fridge and picked out the first vodka he saw, Luksusowa, and an 8 pack of Bud Light. They walked to the counter and if the clerk thought anything suspicious of their I.D.’s he didn’t say anything. Probably busted a lot of people that day and his poor soul was tired.

They snuck to his fire escape and gulped so much liquor and beer that night that they were talking to pigeons and sharing their favorite porn to watch which happened to both be gay oriented. Within minutes of giggles and prodding, Liam confessed to being not totally straight but too afraid to do anything about it. _Sophia’s pretty_ _cool_ , he had mumbled, _but I knida don’t like her like that but I_ want _to._

They never talked about it after that; pretended that they were both too drunk to remember or at least that was the case for Harry.

 

“Can you guys get a room,” Harry complains while he gets up from his couch and walking to the kitchen to look for food.

 

“Are you offering your bed, mate?”

 

“Absolutely not,” Harry says before taking a large bite of a plain slice of wheat break. He spits out into his palm directly after trying not to make a face but wheat bread taste like crap alone. He looks at his company to see if they caught him in the act but they’re staring intently into each other’s eyes. Good, Liam would criticize him for pushing healthy foods and then rejecting them if he saw Harry making a face at the bread.

 

“I saw you, Doctor Oz, you’re not low,” Liam says while keeping his gaze on his girlfriend.

 

“It’s old,” Harry lies, “molding spots and everything.” Sophia finally pulls away from Liam and turns to Harry with a nasty look. The only good thing about Sophia are her eyes, they’re a lovely color, really.

 

“You’re fucking nasty, Harry,” she says and Harry takes a bite of the bread just to spite her. He swallows it down this time, allowing the lumpy food to slither its way down his throat.

 

“Oh, yeah, Harry, Sophia and I are going out to dinner tonight, do you wanna tag along?”

 

“So I can see you guys making out all night? No thanks,” Harry says walking back to the couch and sitting to Liam’s left since the right was occupied.

 

“I’ll pay for your dinner and we’ll limit the affection,” Liam reasons and touches Sophia’s cheek while she makes a distressed face. Harry weighs his options in his head on whether he should accept a free meal and deal with third wheeling or waiting for the campus cafeteria to become available and eat the same French fries. Call him an opportunist but the latter seemed like a suckish decision.

 

“Where’re we going to eat then,” Harry asks soliciting a smile from Liam.

 

* * *

 

_12 years old_

_Harry's sitting in science class, trying not to pay attention to the boy sitting beside him. Instead, he's reading the text book, more like scrutinizing it like he's never seen the words, like he hadn't read this chapter last night. It's okay though, no one had to know. If they were to look at him, if he were to look at him, they'd think that he was just fitting in some last minute studying. So now he's reading about the female anatomy, and he's really impressed. Always has been with any anatomy, the way the body protects itself naturally, doing it in a way that makes sense. His eyes skimmed the same old passage. The female vaginal lubricates while excited to prepare itself for intercourse. It was just all so interesting to him. That the body just works in a way that it protects while being used._

_"Styles, put the book away," his teacher calls, he could hear them snickering but it doesn't bother him, it's just laughing, no need to look too into it._

_"I don't get the joke," Louis says, in a too harsh a tone that was necessary, if Harry were to say so himself. He tries not to look at Louis, has been trying since class started but his presence is heavy and demanding Harry's attention. He turns around, Louis already turning away like he hadn't said a thing. Harry might've thought he didn't if it weren't for the all too tranquil classroom. Mister Burke gave the test paper to Harry quietly, so slowly that Harry had to look up and meet his eyes, so nervously he could feel his leg shake._

_"You've got this," Mr. Burke encouraged with a pat on his shoulder. He probably misinterpreted Harry's nervousness for his fear of failing, but he was quite confident. Just nervous about something, something that he didn't even know, didn't want to know because then he'd open a door that he wanted to be sealed so closed that it'd look just like a wall, no resemblance at all to what's nagging him faintly._

* * *

 

_Louis_

Louis never thought clinking sounds would annoy him so much. Or that meeting new people could be exhausting. But it has and he’s pretty fucking annoyed. Despite himself, he walks over to a group of women dressed in sparkling dresses glinting and glaring from the lights above. _At least the place is conditioned,_ Louis thinks to himself. He smiles wide, exposing the sharpness of his teeth and extending his uniformed arm to each individual before he speaks.

 

“Lovely to see such beautiful faces this evening,” Louis chips, “I’m Louis, I’ll be your waiter for the day. So what’s the special occasion?” he asks like he’s genuinely interested. The women flush under his gaze and he turns around to lead them to a beautifully lit table. The tables are glossed and shimmer with the light bouncing off of them. Midnight Moose looks beautiful at night, with elegantly dressed folks with their carefully painted faces and napkins stained with lipstick. If he had to work at this place, he made sure to do so at night where the moon shone through the clear windows, cleaned by his coworker John, and the people looked pleasant to look at. When it passed 5, the place had a “NO KIDS” policy that Louis held dearly to.

“Engagement party,” one of the women pipes up. She holds her left hand up to show off a big diamond ring nuzzled on her ring finger.

 

“Congratulations,” Louis says excitedly, “just for the occasion, I’ll bring out a sundae for the new bride-to-be,” he says it like she’s a special case but it’s a part of their policy. Including birthdays.

 

“I get a cute waiter and a sundae, today just keeps on getting better,” the woman says and her friends nod in agreement and settle down in their seats. They all look the same age, in their late twenties to early thirties.

 

“Glad to hear that,” he says and takes out his notepad, “I think I’ll add two more sundaes for the rest of you on the house. What would you like to drink, ladies?” Who would Louis be if didn’t admit to liking the attention? Attention was a good thing and if it coasted the place three whole sundaes, then so be it. They seemed to like his declaration because they squealed and glanced at each other.

 

“Two Coca Colas and one Pepsi, please,” one of them answered, this one was dressed in a skin tight golden dress and blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and brushing her chest. Louis nodded and opened his mouth to say something but—

 

“Louis, when you’re done flirting, there’s a group by the door waiting to be assisted,” John says as he passes him. Louis shrugs his shoulders and turns back to the women.

 

“Coming right up,” he says with one final smile as he turns in his list to the cook and turns to the door to collect his new group. First he sees Liam and decides that _yes_ , he’s going to hook Zayn up but then he sees hi company and his face falters. Not only is Sophia Smith standing beside him ultimately making him deter his plan, but so is Harry Styles wearing the skinniest jeans Louis’ ever seen him wear and a black shirt that gives his broad shoulders a run for their money. He rolls his eyes before he approaches them.

 

“I’m Louis, I’ll be your waiter for tonight, will there only be three tonight?”

 

“Lou,” Harry says and takes his hands out of his pockets to gesture with his hands as he talks, “we know your name, you don’t have to introduce yourself.”

 

First of all, don’t call me Lou. It’s Lou _is_ ; second of all, a part of my job is to introduce myself so I’m obligated to.” Louis ignores Harry’s pained expression and motions for them to follow him. After they all get situated in their eats he gets out his note pad.

 

“Any special occasion people, plus Sophia?” He smiles at Liam because Liam is the object of his affection for the night to win him over for the sake of Zayn.

 

“It’s my birthday,” Harry smiles and Louis rolls his eyes.

 

“Your birthday’s February first, not October sixteenth,” Louis says and pops his hip, “so I’m guessing no special events tonight. What drinks would you like?” Harry shrugs his shoulders seeming to have given up and looked down at the menus display of drinks.

 

“I’ve just got married,” Harry tries again and Louis tries not to smile so he bites on his cheek but the smile still shows to his dismay. Harry looks satisfied.

 

“You’re not getting a free sundae, Harry,” Louis says although he scribbled it down. He’s a good person, he really is.

 

“Can I have a Sprite and a Coca Cola for Sophia,” Liam asks kindly which is why Louis scribbles that down.

 

“We don’t have Coca Cola,” he lies because Sophia is literally ruining his plan.

 

“But the one in the booth in front of us has one,” she defends because Louis hasn’t made it a secret in not liking her.

 

“That’s the last one,” he says.

 

“I’ll take a strawberry lemonade then,” she say looking at the menu as she does so.

 

“Me too,” Harry pips, “can I just have fries?” Louis nods although he’s not sure why Harry sounded like he was asking. He waits patiently for all of them to order before splitting away and pulling out his phone to text Zayn.

 

* * *

 

_16 years old_

_"Harry get your fucking head in the game!" Louis says aggressively. He'd rather not play dodge ball, the balls were laced with peoples' sweat, the obnoxious squeaking of sneaker against court, he wanted to say he had a stomach virus or be like Jessica and say he had menstrual cramps, but that was something his body didn't allow, didn't torture him with._

_"I think I twisted my ankle," Harry says as a last attempt but Louis just rolls his eyes, he's obviously not up for the stupid excuses._

_"Just throw the ball," he says exasperatedly, throwing his hands in the air. Personally, Harry thinks he shouldn't be talking because he got kicked out of the game three peoples ago. He rolls his eyes though, Louis yelling encouragingly at him but just as violently. Lunging the ball at his component, unfortunately the one who's really getting the violent end of Louis' back talking, it hits him right in the face and Harry feels compelled to apologize but Louis' run to him and is wrapping his arms around his waist and Harry guiltily forgets._

_"It's still a foul, you're out," Louis whispers in his ear, his breath tickling Harry's skin in the sweetest way. Harry groans even though that's exactly what he was hoping for._

_"Maybe next time," Harry says breaking himself from Louis' grasp reluctantly, he wouldn't have, but Louis' friends are approaching and he'd rather not talk to them or watch Louis walk away. Instead, he walks away first, throwing a smile at Louis because Louis' nice to him, and sinks down against the wall with the other students._

* * *

 

_Louis_

He’s exhausted and lying down on the floor of Zayn’s rom although his room is right across.

 

“You should have seen him, he didn’t even care I was being especially mean to her,” Louis recites the evening events to him. Zayn’s sprawled on his bed with his blankets bunched around his feet.

 

“Did you mention me?” Louis was facing the ceiling hence his ability to see the chipped paint staining the walls and the ceiling fans thick cover of dust. He wonders if he were to turn it on if the room would fill with it.

 

“No, that’d been too obvious, _Zayn_. You know who was with them?” Louis asks but doesn’t give him enough time to respond before he’s saying, “Harry.”

 

With the drop of his name, Zayn lifts himself up by his elbows and looking at Louis with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Was he being a dick again?” Zayn asks and Louis shakes his head.

 

“He was actually being civilized, it hurt,” Louis sighs. He ignores Zayn’s sympathetic smile.

 

“We should throw a party tonight,” Zayn suggests and Louis thinks that may be the best thing he’s heard tonight. So they end up with a full house of people they don’t know.

 

 

_18 years old_

_Harry was nervous, was all day because he had plans, very big plans. He walks extra slow on the walk home, his headphones tucked in his ears. People get apprehensive all the time, but he can't help but wonder if it feels like a rock is sitting on the lungs or like there's a clawing in the back of his throat making angry red marks in its wake to just leave the body, for everyone. He sure hopes no one's felt this before because it's a horrible feeling and not all the bad in world deserves it. He's going mad, or he would like to go mad, maybe then he wouldn't care a rats ass what people think of him. Fingers shaking, Harry opens his house door his mind going frantic, so frantic he needs to dig his nails into his palms._

_"Harry, baby, is that you?" His mother calls from the kitchen and his hearts sinking lower and lower into an abyss he can't set a flicker of light to._

_"Yeah," he croaks, his voice has gone hoarse._

_"Well dinner will be ready in ten," she informs him. He's looking at her like he's guilty and perhaps he is but even guilty people deserve their mothers to love them, right? She's looking back at him with her movements stilling because she can probably see it written all over his face. Plastered in the tight line of his lips or the apprehension in his eyes._

_"Harry," she says, concern lacing her tone, "what's wrong?" Before Harry can register it, she's by his side, wrapping him in her arms and he fully thinks that this, this, is the last hug he's going to get from his mother and he wishes he's okay with it but he's not._

_"Mom," he says feeling light headed, she finally breaks from her embrace stepping back to observe him, he turns around because he can't stand the scrutiny of her gaze any longer, "mom I have to tell you something and I don't want you to see me differently or hate me but I do realize that it's acceptable for you to do so, I won't hate you ever, but if you decide that you do me, I'll pretend to be okay with that."_

_"I could never hate you, Harry. What's bothering you?" Her tone sweetly asks and Harry feels horrible for doing this to her._

_"Mom, I'm gay," Harry says and he's not sure he's said it at all, hopes that he didn't say it, but his mother's arms are wrapping around him and turning him around to face her. She has a hurt expression and Oh God, Harry's hurt her feelings._

_"Do you think I'd really hate you because of your sexual preference? Harry I rose you and I love you and you'd think I'd have changed my mind on loving you because you like the same sex? Baby, I don't care about that, I hope you haven't been worrying about this this whole time," she says with her hands on his face, forcing him to look at her, "I love you Harry, okay?"_

_All Harry can do is nod frantically, he feels like he's finally got that flicker of light going, lighting the abyss, saving his heart from the darkness._

_When Harry walks into school the next day, he sees Louis with a not so bright smile and tired eyes warn down with an exhaustion that he couldn’t quite pin point. His head was still held high and maybe it was a trick of his eye, but Harry could have sworn he saw a light bruise on his chest from where his shirt was riding down. He could have also sworn he saw Louis’ eyes flicker to him so fast he might have not after all._

* * *

 

 

_21 years old_

_Now_

_Harry_

Harry would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared because he is. Zayn’s arm is pinning him to the wall and looking at him like he’s the worst thing to ever have existed. He’d also be lying if he said that he didn’t completely deserve this. He had said something's to Louis because Louis kept trying to talk to him. Louis just had this pull that made him want to spend more time with him but Louis Tomlinson wasn’t the one to stick around for long.

 

“What’s your fucking _problem_?” Zayn asks right beside his ear. Harry could feel his breath fanning against his ear. He had to at least defend himself so he pushes against Zayn and flips him to the other wall having a tight grip to his arm.

 

“What the hell is yours? Why can’t you and your posy leave me the fuck _alone_?” If his voice broke midway, no one had to know. His veins were pumping with anticipation but not with adrenaline of a possible fight, no. Harry was one to fleet not fight when it came for his reflexes to fight or flight. Zayn shoved him off and they were both looking at each other angrily. Zayn’s eyes glinted with something he couldn’t define. The room lights were off but Harry could recognize one of Louis’ sweaters strung carelessly on the bed and he just _knows_ this is Louis’ room. The room reeked of him, his boyish smell— hair spray and something faintly sweet. It’s a really nice scent that Harry would love to bury himself in. It engulfs his senses beautifully and wholly.

 

“Get your head out of your ass, Styles,” Zayn remarks and _okay_ , Harry didn’t think he was _that_ self-centered, “this isn’t about my ‘posy’ and you; this is about you and Louis. Stop treating him like he’s less of a person for whatever reason. You think you’re better than him but you’re not, you’re impertinent and you need to stop treating him like shit.” He’s yelling now and Harry’s eyes have gone wide.

 

“I don’t even talk to him!”

 

“I fucking know you don’t! He’s trying to tell you what he’s feeling and you call him _temporary_? What’s that supposed to mean? What, he can’t keep a hold on the things he wants? No one needs him to stay; like he’s just a _faze_?” Harry’s face falls because Louis probably thinks that right now. And he didn’t mean it like that, he really didn’t. His mind is whirling with how badly he probably hurt Louis’ feelings; that was the last thing he wanted.

 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Harry whispers not really caring if Zayn caught the words, “I really didn’t mean it like that.”

“Well I don’t believe you. Get your act together, Styles. You don’t deserve him.” With that, Zayn was gone, disappearing into the lit hallway. Harry sat on Louis’ bed with his head in his hands pressing his eyes in with the palms of his hands. He looked up when he saw colors in the back of his eyelids and a sigh from the doorway. Upon seeing Louis, Harry sprung up with the most apologetic look.

 

“What are you doing in my room?” he asks not stepping foot in the room like harry had a disease and was being quarantined.

 

“Louis, can you sit down?” Harry asks with a pleading look. Louis was someone he never wanted to make feel unwanted because he was he one Harry _really_ wanted. He was lively and when he started to break out in the eighth grade, the break outs seemed to be like beautiful accessories on his face. When he cried in the middle of class because he got a call from the office saying his grandfather had dies, the tears looked like streaks of hope, Harry wanted to bottle it up and save it for later. He wanted to make Louis’ tears stop because even though his eyes glistened like the moon reflecting on a bottle of Spring water, Louis was sad a he wanted it to stop.

 

“Whatever you have to say, you can say it now, with me standing here,” Louis countered and Harry nodded because at least Louis was giving him a bit of his time.

 

“Louis, when I said you were temporary three months ago I didn’t mean people don’t need you. I meant that _you_ don’t need people. You make friend so easily that you forget them so easily and that’s why I try to distance myself from you. You’re electric, you pull me in with your energy and when I overheat you’re gone, you’re gone so fast it’s like you were never there at all. You keep those that you want to around you and you slip slowly away from those that you don’t. But Louis, you’re not temporary, never.

 

“Special things like you come and they’re gone so fast and leave people lethargic and wanting. No one pushes you away purposefully, no wants to rid themselves of you. I didn’t want to get rid of you but you didn’t need me around. Three months ago, I didn’t want to fool myself into believing that you needed me again.        No one gets struck by lightning twice, you know? That’s the only way I can explain how it feels like being around you; having the pleasures of knowing you. You come fast, striking as ever. You leave your mark in the most beautiful way, all natural and permanent with just a dull in your place. And then when you’re gone, you never come back because you’ve moved on.”

 

Louis’ standing right in front of Harry now, baby blue glistening eyes looking into his and Harry doesn’t know when that happened but it did. Louis’ sweet smell is stronger with him standing right there. Harry thinks it may be his sweat because there’s a thin sheet covering Louis in a really nice way. His lips are moist too but that’s because he’s licked his lips just then. His pink tongue darting out sylphlike and leaving a shiny cover on his lips in its place. Harry looks up when he decides he’s been staring for too long but Louis’ already caught him and his eyes are wide, so _wide_. Harry can feels his pulse everywhere— in his fingertips, his throat, and thumping in his chest like it’s going to combust, it’s probably going to combust. He feels out of breath but not like how he felt when he was little and chasing Louis through grass. Or when he’d laugh so hard until his ides hurt and he was gasping for air. No, this loss of breath was less lung threatening, he felt it more in his chest as if someone was wrapping a tight grip on his heart and having it pulse in their palm. Like Louis had a tight grip on his heart and remembering the throbbing pattern of it.

 

Louis propped his body on his toes and he was leaning upwards until his face was directly in front of Harry’s. Harry could see Louis’ faded freckles dotting his nose and the faint scar of a pimple Louis popped on his cheek and Harry had never seen something so beautiful. He moved down and placed his hands on Louis’ face firmly, the smooth skin under his palms pulled him back to reality because Louis was waiting for him to _kiss_ him. Harry breathed over Louis’ lips slowly and then they were kissing. It was smooth and their lips moved together fast. Harry’s tongue ran over Louis’ swiftly and then rubbed against the roof of his mouth memorizing the indents imprinted there. Memorizing the taste of Louis, like strawberries and pomegranate. They pulled away at the same time, both panting against each other. Louis’ breath rose goosebumps across Harry’s skin and sent a refreshing chill throughout his body like he was finally awake.

 

“You’ve treated me like shit,” Louis says so softly that it can be classified as a whisper.

 

“I’m sorry.” Louis kisses him once more but it’s much more innocent and he lingers longer.

 

“I forgive you. You’re never temporary, we were never temporary.”

Harry had never seen something so beautiful as Louis Tomlinson.

 

Epilogue

“What’s Liam’s favorite type of cookie?” Zayn asks the fourth question since he’s arrived at his and Louis’ frat house. Louis disappeared with Liam upstairs and Harry wondered why he hadn’t gone with them.

 

“I don’t know, Zayn,” he rolls his eyes but then brightens up when he remembers, “Sugar cookies, definitely sugar cookies. He doesn’t like chocolate.”

 

“Thank god, that’s what I thought. He’s going to be so happy tomorrow when I wake him up with cookies and kisses,” Zayn gushes while Louis and Liam walk back downstairs. Harry tries not to stare at the say of Louis’ body as he walks towards them but fails completely. When he passes him, Harry grabs Louis’ hand barely and pulls him down to his lap. Louis groans but doesn’t make a move to leave so he plants a sloppy kiss to his neck, then cheek, and finally lips.

 

“Louis was telling me how he plans on spending Valentine’s Day tomorrow and Harry—,” Liam’s caught off by Louis springing on him and covering his lips with his palms.

 

“I swear if you ruin this I’ll never forgive you,” Louis say harshly and then walks back to Harry.

 

‘”I have a lot of secrets on Liam that’d embarrass him. Like the time I caught him with a picture of Zayn doing—”

 

“Harry! I caught you doing the same thing with a picture of Louis so if you finish that you might as well be shooting yourself in the foot,” Liam says over Harry’s vice. Louis’ staring at him with a smirk and he hide it behind his back.

 

“Nothing can top Louis’ complaining and pestering about Harry for years, though. When we were nine, he’d complain about how he wish him and Harry were still friends and only confessed to liking him when were like sixteen. It was pathetic.”

 

“You did the same thing with Liam, what’re you talking about?” Louis ignored them both and turned to Harry once more. He carded his fingers through his hair lightly.

 

“You’re really cute, Styles,” he said and Harry hid his smile.

 

“You’re alright yourself, Tomlinson.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry the epilogue wasn't the best. I tried. Leave comments, I'd really appreciate it. Even if it's negative feedback, I'll learn eventually.


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